Consequences
by Nothing To Declare
Summary: Hermione Granger is the greatest young witch of her age, and now, she's fallen... in love with her worst nightmare. Set after Half Blood Prince, therefore there may be spoilers!
1. A Changed Life

Consequences

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Minerva McGonagall looked down at the distraught girl sitting next to her.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Granger." The girl looked up.

"Sorry? _Sorry_!" she said, before standing up and kicking the cabinet next to the chair.

"You don't-"

"How can you be sorry? My parents are DEAD!" she screamed. The professor shuddered. Hermione Granger had always been a good student, the best in her year and arguably the best young witch of her age. Now that her parents had died, she had turned into a monster. _Grief. She'll get over it soon enough. I think. _Hermione sat down, sobbing gently.

"There, there." Said McGonagall, wondering what to do. She had only been headteacher of Hogwarts for a few months, and had little experience in the top job. She'd never imagined that Albus Dumbledore would… no, she couldn't think about it. Not while a student was in tears beside her.

"What will I do? Where will I stay? I have no money, I-"

"We will arrange for you to go and stay with Mr Weasley. As for money, I'm afraid I cannot do much." Hermione burst into tears once more, her face disappearing under a head of long, brown hair. Professor McGonagall saw, for the first time in years, not the strong, intelligent girl she had so often taught and been proud to have in her house, Gryffindor, but the scared, intimidated first year that Hermione had never let anyone see inside.

--

Hermione sat in her room at the Weasley's house, packing her trunk. Someone knocked the door. "Hermione?" came the voice from the other side.

"Go away, Harry."

"Hermione, let me in. Now."

"Piss off."

"UNLOCK THE DAMN DOOR!" Harry screamed, and kicked the door fiercely. Hermione did as she was told.

"What?"

"Hermione, you can't keep on doing this. Staying in your room. It's not healthy."

"I'm packing."

"Come out with us."

"I can't."

"You can."

"No. Anyway, weren't you meant to be off finding Horcruxes or something, hero?" Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. She knew she had said something wrong. Harry simply turned and walked away, before saying as he walked downstairs, "Breakfast's ready."

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Please read and review!

Gill


	2. A Chance Meeting

"Hermione, dear, have some toast." Mrs Weasley said, dropping toast onto the plate held out by a reluctant Hermione, who then sat down at the crowded table and took a bite.

"So, boys, how's the joke shop been?" Arthur asked Fred and George, who had apparently Apparated in the night before.

"Great, dad! Business is booming, as usual!"

"Those Fangtastic Fruits are bringing in loads, Ginny! Thanks for the idea!"

"No problem, Fred. Any time."

"Ginny, you're not helping them now, are you?"

"Yes, I am, as a matter of fact, I am."

"She's our little brainstormer!"

"Ron, are you and Harry coming to see the Chudley Cannons play during the Christmas holidays?" Charlie asked, before everyone noticed Hermione silently weeping into a rather soggy, half eaten piece of toast.

"Hermione?" asked Ron, the only one who apparently knew about Harry and Hermione's argument, quietly.

"Hermione, you can go too, if you want to that much…" started Charlie, before everyone in the kitchen, minus Hermione, shot him a shut-up-you're-not-helping look.

"Hermione, you can get over this, come on…" Ron started to say.

"You don't know that! YOUR PARENTS AREN'T DEAD!" Hermione shouted and Harry drew a sharp breath.

"Maybe I don't… I…how… I give up…" Ron muttered.

"It's ok, Ron. My parents are dead, Hermione. So do I understand?" Harry asked.

"No. You don't."

"And why's that, Hermione?"

"You were one. You can't remember."

"I GET FLASHBACKS EVERY WEEK NOW WHEN I'M SLEEPING! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE THAT?"

"JUST SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Hermione screamed, grabbing her wand and walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Mrs Weasley frantically.

"For a walk." Hermione said, grabbing her coat from the cloakholder (which Fred and George had enchanted to dance whenever someone went near it) and left, slamming the door behind her.

--

Out in the crisp morning, Hermione felt safe. She felt like she had time to think, time to get over her loss. Her footsteps echoed along the path leading to the fields behind the Burrow. Realising her shoelaces were untied, she stopped to tie them. _What the…_ she thought, thinking her footsteps had gone on for a little _too_ late there… her feeling of safeness immediately vanished. _It's just an echo,_ she told herself, and kept walking, after tying her lace. But… she was _sure_ that someone was behind her, like that uneasy feeling when you're waking alone down a dark street. Suddenly, she saw a flash of white in the bushes.

"Who's there?" she cried. No-one answered. "I said, who's there? I have a wand on me and I'm not afraid to use Dark Magic!"

"Dark Magic, Granger? I never knew you had it in you. Maybe you should be in Slytherin." Hermione shuddered. She knew that voice all too well, and she didn't like that he was standing behind her. She slowly turned.

"Malfoy."

"I prefer Draco, but Malfoy works."

"What are you doing here?"

"Hiding out."

"I'll turn you in."

"To who?"

"McGonagall."

"Ha! McGonagall _put_ me here!" In a little hut just off that field." He pointed.

"Fine then, I'll tell Mr Weasley."

"That isn't Mr Weasel's land. So he can't get rid of me if he tried."

"You evil-"

"Shut up Granger. Now me…"

"You what?"

"I could turn you in to McGonagall."

"For what?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"For threatening to use Dark Magic on a peer."

"I wouldn't exactly call you a peer."

"I wouldn't call you one either."

"What?"

"What?"

"That made no sense."

"What made no sense?"

"You made no sense." Draco laughed. Not the harsh, evil sounding laugh Hermione was used to, but a warmer sounding, softer one. Within seconds, Hermione found herself giggling, too, before remembering that this was _Malfoy_, of all people, and returning to her frown, re-raising her wand.

"Where are your parents?"

"I think you know where my father is."

"And your mum?"

"With my aunt."

"Bellatrix?"

"Yes, Bellatrix."

"Evil cow!"

"Hey, that's my aunt."

"Oh, don't worry, you've inherited her skill."

"And her beauty." Draco said, spiking up his hair. It was now thatHermione noticed how normal it looked, not in it's usual greasy state. Hermione had to admit, without his expensive robes and over use of hair gel, Malfoy looked wuite attractive. _Ew! You should be ashamed, that's Malfoy!_ She thought.

"So you agree?"

"What?" she said, snapping back to reality.

"Well, you didn't answer, so I assumer you agree that I did inherit my aunt's beauty."

"Or rather lack of it." Came a voice from behind them, and they both jumped around to see Harry and Ron standing, wands at the ready and pointed to Draco's head.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione said.

"Lay one finger on her and I'll blast your hair off." Ron threatened.

"Like last time, Weasley? When you ended up coughing up slugs?"

"Fine then, I'll blast your hair off." Harry said.

"Don't start me, Potty."

"Stop it!" Hermione interjected.

"Stay out of this, Hermione." Ron said fiercely.

"Why? We've just had a nice little chat, haven't we, Mudblood?" Draco said, nudging Hermione.

"Call me Mudblood once more, Malfoy, and I'll hex your nose." Hermione said, pointing her wand straight at Draco's nose.

"Sorry… sorry…" he whimpered.

"Some on Hermione. You've to pack your trunk." Harry said matter-of-factly and pulled her away, Ron following, still pointing his wand at Malfoy.


End file.
